


fire-hazard

by kurgaya



Series: RUMBLEBIRDS [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Awkward Flirting, Developing Relationship, Don't copy to another site, M/M, Mutual Pining, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Nesting, SKUUN THIS IS YOUR FAULT, but there is bird-sparring as foreplay?, don't worry you don't have to read bird sex, i had to write that, look they're both birds okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-07-07 20:27:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19857547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurgaya/pseuds/kurgaya
Summary: “Right,” Kushina says once he’s finished recounting Gai's endeavours, smacking her fist into her palm. “Well, okay. You’re both birds.”Kakashi and Gai have both been birds for thousands of years. Gai's never behaved like this before. It's not as though there are any other phoenixes in the world to ask if Kakashi's one has gone mad.[Magic!AU. It's been a long time coming]





	fire-hazard

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to skuun for basically proof-reading this lol
> 
> Since I've written these all out of order, for anyone who's read the others, this is set in the middle.

Never try to trick me with a kiss  
Pretending that the birds are here to stay;  
The dying man will scoff and scorn at this.

\-- _Never Try To Trick Me With A Kiss_ by Sylvia Plath

The Nara deer are wiser than their secular counterparts, living within the shadows as neither predator nor prey, but they’re still stupid enough not to bolt as Kakashi approaches down the path. There’s a small group of them pacing by the front of Gai’s house, tails flicking and ears twitching, and their too-many eyes watching both realms at once. For the most part, their attention seems to be fixated on this world, specifically on the teenager sat on the _engawa_ with the bag of oats. One of the deer has jumped up onto the _engawa_ behind him, great head of antlers looming over to better reach the food. Another is nosing at the bag like a dog. Yamato allows their antics with a patience that he could’ve _only_ learned from Gai. Kakashi’s never quite known what to make of the Nara deer - or the Nara, or most things, really - so he usually shoos them away, sacred animals or not. The forest knows better than to argue, although it _has_ grown more plucky since Yamato arrived. Kushina calls it _the terrible teens_ and laughs herself silly at the thought, but as far as Kakashi’s concerned, a forest with any self-preservation should be well past its teenage years by now.

Kakashi raises a hand in greeting, dropping his disguise. Even with his usual face, the deer stare at him strangely, their shadows too long and their common-sense falling too short, but Yamato recognises the feel of Kakashi's magic, the brewing thunder and the on-coming rain. Discerning faces isn’t Gai’s strong point though, so Kakashi’s better off looking like himself around the house - or as close to himself as he can be given that - well.

“Gai’s out back,” Yamato says by way of greeting, letting the deer munch oats from his hand. He spoils the deer almost as much as the Nara family do, but they followed him around the forest long before he carried food with him. Something about Hashirama’s magic calls to them, the same way it does to the earth and the trees. Even the Foxwood grew green in his presence, and a dominion blackened with fox’s fire should never be green at all.

“A deal is a deal, I suppose,” the Nine-Tails had sighed upon Kakashi’s return, eyes as red as the autumn wood and teeth as white as the winter it’ll never know. “But be assured, should it infest my forest again, I will make you wish you could _burn_.”

Kakashi hadn’t needed to return to the Nine-Tails in the end, except to fulfill his promise. Kushina had made sure of that, kicking down Gai’s door the next morning, Kakashi’s lost cloak in one hand and her toddler son in the other. The boy, Naruto, who the hot southern winds were whispering about, who’s stolen his mother’s whisker-marked cheeks and wildfire magic, and has hair as sunflower-gold as his father, had set three cushions and a chair alight while Kushina tore Kakashi a new one. Gai had eventually stepped in as Konoha’s mightiest fire blanket to quell Naruto’s fox fire rage, but Kushina had made her point.

Kakashi pushes those thoughts away. Six years have passed since then. He comes and goes as he pleases - as he has done, as he probably always will - but the combined force of Kushina, Naruto, and Yamato guilts him into staying for more than a night at a time. Minato would never forgive him, either, for not protecting his wife and son as Kakashi should have done that fateful night, years ago. And while Kakashi doesn't care much for what people think of him - for what people think they _know_ of him - he would rather throw himself to the Nine-Tails than disappoint Minato.

Kakashi dumps his bags into the kitchen and pops the kettle on the stove. The _shoji_ screen slides open with little effort, and beyond that, he yanks open the protective storm-shutters to lighten up the house. The outward _shoji_ in the kitchen looks out to the Nara forest: they all do. Kakashi watches the young deer tumble in and out of the woods, bouncing across the shadows below the trees. They're safe under Gai's shadow, too, although a giant shadow it is, and Kakashi rolls his eyes as Gai looms down over the house, his great, pink-gold head of feathers ducking into sight.

(Gai… never asks him to stay.)

"Rival! You're back!" Gai booms, squeezing through the storm-shutters and _shoji_. Or trying to. Kakashi's peaceful view of the forest vanishes behind a blur of fiery colours. Gai's beak clacks against the support beams as he wiggles his head inside, and his kaleidoscopic plume spills like magma onto the kitchen floor. Kakashi could open the _shoji_ a bit further but that’s no fun. Gai can't fit his whole body in the house anyway, which is perhaps an oversight from its construction and one not easily remedied.

"I was only gone for the day," Kakashi says, pouring himself a coffee. Kushina's apartment is in the heart of the village; a few hours away by foot is hardly the furthest he’s ever travelled.

"I know! But I am always pleased by your return," Gai replies, and there's a _whoosh!_ of air against the house as he rearranges his eight ridiculous wings. A huge bird of fire isn't exactly inconspicuous on a summer afternoon, especially as Gai settles himself down in the yard. His head thumps against the kitchen floor like an old dog, but his eyes are young and fire-bright.

“Someone will see you,” Kakashi drawls, although he doubts it. Few people venture into the Nara forest and even fewer know the way. The deer will scatter long before a visitor approaches the house, and even then, Yamato is attuned with the comings and goings of the wood. He's the perfect alarm system. The Nara forest adores him in the way that the Foxwood wish it could.

“I’m warmed by your concern, but there’s no need to worry,” Gai replies, and he might wink or he may just blink, but it's hard to tell with his monocular vision. “More importantly, how was your sleepover?”

Kakashi sighs into his coffee. “Only Naruto would call it a sleepover. It was babysitting, simple as. And it was fine. I picked up that bread you like."

He sets the loaf on the counter, Gai watching him eagerly. A gigantic firebird isn't anything like a dog but Kakashi _likes_ dogs, and he likes Gai too, somehow, so he strokes the feathers atop Gai's head without much thought. Warmth prickles his fingers. Kakashi's as cold as the autumn rain and the wind it whips, but Gai's always had trouble with cooling down. Even his personality could do with an icy soak. He's just so _much_ \- and _all of the time_. Kakashi knows what will kill him in the end, but sometimes he wonders if it's Gai's big heart that will do him in.

“Naruto was well-behaved?” Gai asks, his eyes opening and closing slowly. He certainly doesn't wag his tail like a dog does, but the pink-green shimmering to his feathers is beautiful and pleased. He's such a sap. The cold touch of Kakashi's skin is probably tickling him just as much as Gai's eternal warmth is in return.

“Of course he wasn’t. He’s _eight._ " Kakashi removes his hand and places his coffee cup there instead, just because he can. Gai's eyes cross trying to look at it. "What were you doing outside, anyway?”

“Well," Gai begins, trying his hardest not to move. He probably thinks it's a Challenge. “I was playing with the deer.”

Kakashi hums. “Productive day then.”

“It was!” Gai agrees, and the cup flails as he bobs his head with enthusiasm. He stills, admonished by the splash of coffee down his face. “I have been gathering materials all morning! I have something to show you: a surprise!”

“A surprise,” Kakashi drawls, already dreading it. "Is it a challenge?"

“Yes! No!” Gai cries, and three things happen at once: Gai surges upwards and _smashes_ his head on the ceiling; the cup careens across the kitchen and shatters on the floor, coffee splattering with high velocity onto Kakashi and the _fusuma_ like a spray of blood; and the fawn courageously trying to wiggle between Gai’s fire-bright body and the doorway _shrieks_ and pops into the shadows, flinging itself out again in terror in the centre of the kitchen and skidding under the table, _through_ the _fusuma_ , and tumbling into a heap down the hall. Cries of alarm rise up from the other deer. Around the front of the house, Yamato yelps, and then a few seconds later one of the bucks trots past with its head stuck in the bag of oats.

Gai flusters, twirling around to apologise to the Nara wildlife. The deer hop around in their collective fright and vanish into the darkness, their too-many eyes blinking out of sight. Gai’s light could chase them into the nothingness but the Nara family are fussy about how much of their dark realm he burns away. He shrinks back into his human body instead, laughing sheepishly as Yamato looks on in disapproval.

Kakashi smiles and pours himself a second cup of coffee.

The surprise, as he discovers once Gai has earned himself back into the Nara forest's good books, is not in any way shape or form on the list of things that Kakashi _imagined_ it could be - including a challenge. Gai leads him back into the master bedroom, which isn't suspicious in itself since Kakashi sleeps there, sometimes, on a futon rolled out in the corner. He sleeps in whatever part of the house he's in the mood for, really, which is usually the sofa in the front room, but sometimes it's on the floor, the roof, or a chair at the kitchen table. For the most part, his time in Konoha is spent alternating between Gai's house and Kushina's apartment, although he has been known to crash with Kurenai, Asuma, and occasionally with the squirrels in the central park. Gai's been fussing over Kakashi's sleeping habits for hundreds of years, so when they enter the bedroom, Kakashi has a feeling for what the _surprise_ will be.

A new bed. A second couch. A sign over the futon that reads _KAKASHI YOU CAN SLEEP HERE_.

He's wrong in the only way that matters.

“Well? Do you like it?”

The corner where Kakashi sometimes unrolls his futon is _somewhere_ , but it’s hard to tell beneath the pile of _stuff_ that’s been regurgitated into the room. At a glance, it seems as though a child has been left to run wild and re-arranged Gai's possessions into a blanket-fort. Mismatched cushions and blankets cover the floor and drape the walls. Some sort of soft material fills in the gaps, spilling out like weeds from a garden. Bits of it seem to glow like candlelight and Kakashi isn’t sure he wants to discover why. Plants - there are _plants_ \- cling to the wall and shed flower-petals onto the cushions, and the sunflowers (which definitely aren’t native to this region of Konoha) lean over the drapings like curious lamps. Given that they can only be a product of Yamato’s magic, it isn’t a surprise that they seem to watch Kakashi, yellow-auburn flower-heads like huge, pupil-less eyes. They’re probably supposed to be pretty (Gai is fond of sunflowers) but Kakashi's too scared to look at them.

“Uh. Am I supposed to?”

"Of course!" Gai cries, affronted at the question. If his feathers were on display, they'd be ruffled up with incredulity, pink and red and some impossible colour. He's impossible to understand sometimes, too, especially now as his magic all but shines. "If you want to! I’d like you to, but - well - I thought you’d like somewhere cosier to sleep!”

 _Cosy_ isn’t too different from _crappy_ , Kakashi supposes, trying to smother the sarcasm in his coffee cup. He sips once, and then twice, downing half of it as he attempts to conjure up an appropriate response. Gai practically shimmers beside him, rosy sparks of excitement like fireworks across the room. If he's not careful, he'll set the bedroom or worse alight, and Kakashi hums, deciding that setting the makeshift bed on fire isn't such a bad idea.

Gai's been fretting over Kakashi since their beginning, but whatever's possessed him to go to such lengths to relocate Kakashi from the couch is baffling. He's fine with the couch; it's no-nonsense, no-commitment, and also comfy as _hell_ , and he says as such.

Gai's shimmering is almost frantic. “I know, but -”

“But?”

It's not like Gai to press an issue, especially one that Kakashi's against. He seems to realise it, too, hesitating. There's a moment where it seems he might argue, but then he shakes his head with a big smile, losing his nerve.

“It’s no matter. I'll work even harder next time! I'll surprise you with something you like!"

"Right." Kakashi has absolutely no idea what's going on here, but he pegs it down to Gai being Gai. "The couch is fine, really.”

"I'll make something better than the couch!"

“...If that's what you want," Kakashi mutters, finishing off his coffee. He has to squint to protect his normal eye from the light of Gai's magic (and there's so _much_ of it), but he's used to Gai's exuberance and the swell of his flames.

Falling in love with a phoenix is a fire-hazard, after all.

The Nara forest catches Kakashi in a twister of feathers and white-blue flame. Something in the darkness and the undergrowth screeches as he lands, crashing down through the canopy and into a heap upon the earth. Hopefully he hasn't squashed a deer. The Nara family might kill him; Yamato really will. As far as Kakashi's concerned, something with that many eyes should be able to dodge a gigantic thunderbird falling from the sky, but maybe he's expecting too much.

The Two-Tails' wispy fire swirls over Kakashi's wings. He tried to zap it away but it's persistent, as all the Tailed Beasts are. Luckily, the Two-Tails' power diminishes beyond its country - as does the Nine-Tails’ past Fire; the One-Tails’ beyond Wind - which means Kakashi collapses into the Nara forest alive and mostly well, rather than burning to black-blue and ash out in the Land of Lightning. His flight-feathers are all but ruined, though, and the Two-Tails’ cinders scatter as he shakes his wings. Blood flicks over the earth and trees, and something about the Nara forest seems to recoil, its wandering shadows slithering away from the light of Kakashi’s temper; lightning across his body and the poppy-red bleed in his gaze.

The storm above him lingers like vultures over decay.

“Fuck,” Kakashi hisses, all but rolling in the dirt as he tries to right himself. It’s no use. He can barely lift his head let alone his body; his wings drag through the grass and his tail-feathers smoke even now. That he managed to reach the depths of Fire is surprising enough. He could crawl to Konoha, he supposes, demolishing a path through the forest on his way. Or he could simply lie here, cursing and heaving, with his face pressed into the ground. The things that inhabit the Nara forest know better than to disturb him, and the things that Kakashi has yet to meet will be wise to stay away. Unlike Gai and Yamato, he isn’t above zapping the wildlife into keeping its distance, sacred deer of the shadows or not.

The rain that falls is cool and fine. Kakashi closes his eyes and lets it wash away the ruined feathers and flame.

Some time passes. His pain eases to a simmer until something prods him - not the many branches of an antler but something smaller, more precise - and he wakes all at once, lashing out from an unexpected doze. There’s a shout as he comes to life, and another as he snaps his head around, lightning fizzling from his crown and curving down his neck. One of the two men leaps backwards, his blur of black and brown clothing suggesting he hails from Konoha. The other, high pony-tailed and unshakeable, has familiar claw-like marks across his face, and though he doesn’t move, the shadows of the forest rise up to protect him. They must be Naras. Kakashi backs down - _falls_ down, exhausted and hurting and in no state to fight.

“What is it?” asks the cowardly Nara, inching closer again.

“A thunderbird, I’d gather. One the forest knows," replies the other, and though he's familiar, Kakashi can't quite decide why. On the odd occasion that Yamato wanders into the Nara compound, it's Gai who fetches him. Kakashi doesn't think he's spoken to anyone from the Nara family since Minato died.

The cowardly Nara seems to reconsider approaching. “Should we report this to Lord Third?”

The other Nara dismisses the idea before Kakashi can object. “I imagine he's already aware. The deer are cautious but unafraid, so I don’t think there’ll be any trouble. Am I right, Kakashi?”

Kakashi would flap his wings for a thunderstorm and blow these Nara away if he were capable. His magic snaps to attention anyway, lightning waiting to strike; he's never revealed himself to the Nara, not as feathers and thunder and the cold, dark rain. Gai and Yamato would never tell. Kushina's loose-lipped when she's drunk, but she wouldn't be drinking with Naruto around.

"Did Minato-sensei tell you?"

"No, he was never forthcoming with answers when it came to you. But I'm not completely stupid, kid," the Nara replies, and Kakashi feels a rush of relief as he recognises Nara Shikaku by his belittling drawl.

It must be hard to be anything but belittling as the smartest man in the village. Minato was brilliant, too, but Shikaku's tactical knowledge is unparalleled. Kakashi remembers them pulling each other's cognitive pigtails like a pair of mages-in-training out in the grounds.

"The Fourth's student - Hatake?" the cowardly Nara asks, looking dubious. For good reason, too, since: "He's reported dead."

"His report will be largely untrue," Shikaku assures, turning to Kakashi. Usually people who recognise Kakashi for what he is regard him with horror - or sorrow, or fear. But there's none of that in Shikaku's gaze. His expression is the classic Nara neutral: lacking judgement but lacking any sort of excitement too.

Shikaku sighs. "You might be a little big for our shadows to carry.”

Kakashi - shouldn't be surprised. Fear is probably too much effort for Nara Shikaku. Even the more cowardly Nara has composed himself; and so has the forest, used to Gai’s mishaps more than Kakashi’s, but settling down after its violent awakening all the same. A buck and a doe approach with midnight-leaves in their fur, their many eyes blinking out of time. The buck nudges Shikaku’s back, probably nosing for food. Neither of them scatter as Kakashi’s head _thunks_ back onto the earth.

So much for moping here in peace.

“Alert Maito Gai," Shikaku says.

Nodding quickly, the cowardly Nara rushes off back to Konoha. Shikaku pets the buck trying to fit into his pockets. The doe trots over to Kakashi, ears flicking away starlight without a care. They’re strange creatures, these Nara deer, and Kakashi resigns himself to sleeping under the watchful eyes of the wood.

He remembers only what his pain allows; the rest is a haze of Beast fire and slumber, shadowy voices and the whisper of deer.

Morning finds him sooner than expected, its orange-gold dawn breaking through the storm. Kakashi stirs as the light warms his face. Something settles down beside him like the sun over the earth; and it’s not morning, he realises, or the chatter of dawn. Gai lays two of his wings over him, feathers of spun-amber blanketing the thunderbird black. Gai's plume is sun-red and emerald dusted, and it’s hot, phoenix hot, as it trails down Kakashi’s side. Usually, Gai is so careful to touch him in these forms. A thunderbird can only die by fire - and a phoenix fire is the brightest of them all.

Gai is warm and comfy - more so than the sofa, not that Kakashi will tell. He turns his face under Gai’s breast feathers, under the tufty ones at the crux of his wing.

 _This is what I want_ , Kakashi thinks, already slipping back to sleep, _not some overly-decorated futon_.

He might mumble something as he closes his eyes - or Gai might, or even the Nara - but it doesn’t matter. The Two-Tails’ fire is no match for a phoenix flame.

"The Two-Tails again?" Gai asks, dabbing at Kakashi's shoulder with a cotton pad. His attempts at healing magic are atrocious. He can resurrect himself with nothing but will-power and ash, but present him with a paper-cut and he'll rush off to find a plaster.

Gai's familiar enough with the Two-Tails' magic by now that he doesn't need to ask. This isn't the first time he's found Kakashi on fire in the woods and it certainly won't be the last.

Kakashi says nothing, turning another page of his book. His left arm is bandaged up to the elbow and his fingers sting when he wiggles them, but propping up a book doesn't require much mobility. Soon, Gai will finish wrapping his right arm in gauze too, and then Kakashi will be flightless for the rest of the week. Any longer than that and he'll "start getting antsy," as Gai accused of him once; Kakashi wouldn't have said it quite like that, but he was in the middle of tearing off his bandages with his teeth at the time and hadn't really had the opportunity to defend himself.

Gai picks a protective seal from the med-kit and lays it carefully across Kakashi's shoulder. He presses it down with his palm, adhering it with a pulse of magic. Kakashi twitches, _not_ in pain, and feels himself blush as Gai's magic flickers over him. Then Gai peels off the back of the seal, revealing the mirrored imprint of ink on Kakashi's skin.

"I worry you won't make it back to Konoha next time," Gai says.

"I can handle the cat," Kakashi assures, meaning the Two-Tails. Gai isn't just talking about the Two-Tails and they both know it; they've had this conversation a thousand times before. Nothing short of clipping Kakashi's wings entirely will keep him from searching the world for fire magic. And though Gai fusses and scowls when he has to dig out the med-kit, he won't even _ask_ Kakashi to stay, so there's no chance he'll ever resort to _keeping_ Kakashi here.

Kakashi flips another page, already missing his wings. The Nara helped gather all of his burnt-off feathers and now there's a sorry pile of them by the sofa. They're not smoking anymore, thank god. Maybe Gai would like them to embellish whatever over-the-top sleeping arrangement he thinks up next. The feathers aren't worth much else; maybe someone, somewhere, would kill for thunderbird down, but as far as Kakashi's concerned, none of these feathers can match the one around his neck.

It's kind of pathetic, really. Gai gave him a phoenix feather years ago and Kakashi still hasn't returned the favour. He'd like to, he thinks. He'd like for Gai to wear it. They could match, then, a phoenix with a thunderbird feather and a thunderbird with a phoenix.

"We haven't had a challenge for a while," Kakashi muses, clenching and unclenching his bandaged hand. "You'll have to go easy on me next time."

He's kidding of course. Gai wouldn't be Gai if he wasn't a thousand percent all of the time.

Gai - says nothing. Kakashi skim-reads two pages before he realises that Gai won't be quipping back at all.

"I'm joking."

Gai flattens another seal against Kakashi's back, just as gently as before. Two seems a bit like overkill, but Kakashi's in no position to complain. Gai's magic is worth holding his tongue for.

"I know," Gai says - that's it _, I know_. "Don't turn your head."

Kakashi stares at the smouldered pile of feathers and wonders what he did wrong. He can think of ten things off of the top of his head, but given enough time, he could write a list as long as his book. There's a hundred different places he could start with apologies, and none of them good, so Kakashi swallows them down. He could offer _gratitude_ instead - but as Gai finishes bandaging Kakashi's arm, the moment passes.

"Good as new," Gai says, patting his handiwork.

Kakashi all but digs his claws into the opportunity. "Which one of us is the phoenix here?" he drawls, snapping his book shut.

Gai smiles - but there's something other than humour behind it. There was something else in his expression when he presented that messed up futon-cushion-bed pile too, but Kakashi doesn't know _what_.

"You'd be a magnificent phoenix!"

Kakashi almost scoffs. "How many lives can you have?"

It's a serious question with a serious answer, but Gai just packs away the med-kit and says, "You should rest. I'll make some tea."

Kakashi sighs and slumps back into the couch. It's comfy, at least, but he presses his face into the back-cushion and wishes for firebird feathers instead.

Kakashi doesn't get what he wants. Gai keeps giving him _beds_. The surveillance sunflowers from the first futon were only a glimpse into what was to come. In the weeks that follow, there are blankets and cushions, so many cushions - and then less cushions, more flowers, strange perfumes, and fire-spun fabrics that Kakashi runs his fingers over and feels the tingle all the way up his arm.

Once, he walks in on Gai shoving the sofa through the house, Yamato and a pair of falcons watching on from the kitchen. Kakashi doesn't question the animals that Yamato befriends anymore, but he does snap his book closed and shoot Gai a _look_. Futons are one thing but _the sofa_ is another. Gai smiles sheepishly and tries to hide the sofa behind him, which would be possible were he large and feathered at the time, but instead he's slightly less large and green.

Kakashi purses his lips and walks out again.

Slipping on a disguise as he passes through Konoha's southern gate is instinct. He wears his real face in the village so rarely that few people would associate it with his name. (There are more people in the world who associate it with another name, but Kakashi's not that person, no matter what anyone says).

Kurenai would be a sympathetic ear to his plight - not that Kakashi's really sure what his plight _is_ \- but she's often with Asuma or Anko. Asuma's all right given that he's a mortal man sauntering into his twenties, but Anko is - Anko. Gai only has good things to say about her, but even his brand of crazy pales in comparison to Anko's _usual_ brand.

Kakashi takes his book to the first comfy-ish looking rooftop and decides to think up a solution in due time.

The solution comes to him in the form of Uzumaki Kushina hiking up the building in a skirt. Kakashi still hasn’t _quite_ overcome his fear that she’ll bust through any closed door in the vicinity and set him on fire, but he thinks it’s reasonable to be wary around the only ex-jinchūriki in existence. Her Nine-Tails magic burns on in her son now, so strictly speaking, she shouldn’t be _able_ to set Kakashi on fire. The laws of the universe haven’t stopped her yet, though, which is why Kakashi bolts upright as Kushina marches across the roof.

“I’m sure there are better places to perch,” she grumbles, sitting down beside him. She’s wearing flip-flops, of all things, and the wonky paint on her toenails suggests she let Naruto loose with the polish.

“Where’s Naruto?” Kakashi asks, half-expecting her to pull him out from behind her back. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Kushina smiles, reminiscing over the same memory. “Playdate with Sasuke. You know, I thought siccing the brat on Mikoto would give me a day _all_ to myself, but I guess I have my _other_ brat to deal with, huh? I suppose even immortal beings of thunder and lightning have problems.”

Kakashi would hide himself in his book were anyone else beside him. But Kushina is, well, Kushina, and he’s as fond of her as he was of Minato, just in a slightly different way. Minato was, _well_ , Minato, and Kushina’s the woman they both left behind.

“I’m not immortal.”

“Are my brat though,” Kushina says through a smile, tapping him with her knuckles. “What’s up? If you need me to punch someone, I’ve got till three. After that, we can set Naruto on ‘em too.”

Kakashi winces. Gai and Naruto get along like a house on fire - and the house _would be_ if they were left to their own devices, and neither of them would notice. Naruto loves having a fire-proof uncle - not, that is, that he knows _why_ Gai cannot catch flame. Some matters are just difficult to bring up in conversation, especially to children (especially to _Naruto_ who can't keep his mouth _shut_ ), and _hey sometimes I burst into flame and die but it’s fine and also I’m almost old enough to remember the Rabbit Goddess herself_ isn’t exactly easy to slide in. Rin only knew about Kakashi because of Obito’s _big mouth_ , and Obito only knew because Kakashi keeps _track_ of all the fire mages in the world. He's yet to find one powerful enough to smite him, and Obito was perhaps the most disappointing of all.

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” Kakashi replies.

“So it’s Gai,” Kushina guesses, a matter-of-fact. “Damn. Minato was much better at this kinda talk than I am. I don’t mind knocking some sense into you, but I might have to draw the line at decking your boyfriend.”

“He’s not -” Kakashi restrains himself, digging his not-there claws into the roof. He could return to his book and wait for Kushina to leave _were she not Kushina_. She’s the most persistent person he’s ever met; she’s more persistent than Gai and he _rebirths himself from ashes_.

“He’s making _beds_ ,” Kakashi blurts, and Kushina’s soft _oh_ is almost as surprising as the anger in his voice. Gai hasn’t issued a challenge in _weeks_. Kakashi's wings are healed now, they healed ages ago. But instead of proclaiming that they _catch up_ or _make up for lost time_ , Gai's still faffing around with cushions and futons and the sofa as though Kakashi could care _any less_ about where he sleeps when his rival has grown _tired_ of him.

The golden feather around his neck is cooler than it should be. Maybe Gai could use it to stuff another pillow.

“O _kay_ , that’s not what you normally say when I bring up the ‘b’ word,” Kushina says, considering him seriously. “ _Beds_?”

Kakashi sighs and recounts Gai’s endeavours with the futon. He makes a point to emphasise the sunflowers and the daffodils and the pots of tulips that have sprung up around the house; Yamato's _in_ on whatever's going on, and Kakashi doesn't know if that makes him feel better. He could confront Yamato about it, he supposes, but he makes a habit not to antagonise the kid when he's surrounded by a dark and protective wood.

“Right,” Kushina says once he’s done, smacking her fist into her palm. “Well, okay. You’re both _birds_.”

Kakashi and Gai have both been _birds_ for thousands of years. Gai's never behaved like this before. It's not as though there are any other phoenixes in the world to ask if Kakashi's one has gone mad.

He rolls his eyes. “What’s that got to do with -”

“What if he’s making you a nest? I mean, if Minato’d been a bird, maybe that’s what he would’ve done instead of taking me out to dinner. Or I would’ve worked my arse off to build him one, if that's what he wanted.”

It sounds _so weird_ when she puts it like that and yet Kakashi's stomach sinks. Around his neck, Gai's feather warms gently and tickles his ever-cold skin, and Kakashi feels it like fire through the flood of icy rain in his chest.

“He’s _flirting_ with me?”

Kushina - laughs. “I’d say it’s beyond flirting at this point, kiddo. Is that such a bad thing? I'd be flattered!"

Kakashi buries his face into his hands. "I don't _need_ a nest."

"Well, you better tell him that, cause he's clearly bending over backwards trying to please you!"

 _No he's not_ , Kakashi thinks, and the ice-cold panic in his chest freezes into resolve. Gai's gifted feather is burning so brightly that it glows fierce and golden through Kakashi's shirt. Like talons he curls his fingers down his face, clenching his fists over his eyes. If Gai was trying his hardest, he wouldn't have abandoned their challenges in favour of turning the house and Kakashi's heart upside down.

He stands abruptly, startling Kushina from her laughter. Unseen, lightning zips between his feathers, urging him on. He doesn't need a nest; he's never wanted one. He's fine with the sofa: with how things were. But if Gai insists on performing ridiculous spectacles (just as ridiculous as his stupid, beautiful plumage and the sun-woven unnecessity to every speck of his fiery magic) then Kakashi will have to take the matter into his own hands.

Yamato and far, far more deer than usual are crowded around the front porch when Kakashi storms over. Even the bucks scatter out of his way this time, tripping over themselves back into the shadows. Yamato just jabs a thumb over his shoulder, sounding too old as he sighs.

"In the kitchen with Shikaku."

Kakashi doesn't stop to glower at him, footsteps clapping like thunder up the porch steps. "Make yourself scarce, would you?"

He stalks around the _engawa_ rather than through the house, the storm-shutters open wide to his right and the _shoji_ basking gold in the light to his left. Yamato’s soft _uh oh_ follows him around to the kitchen and the gently charred wood where Gai had stuck his head into the house just a few weeks before. The _shoji_ crashes as Kakashi shoves it open. Shikaku doesn’t startle but Gai does, scattering the _shogi_ pieces (much like the coffee) all over the kitchen floor. The pieces seem to flee at the sight of Kakashi in the doorway, skidding under the counters and scurrying to the corners. Gai has no such self-preservation, his face lighting up in contrast to Shikaku’s shadow magic sweeping the floor to gather the pieces. If Gai were large and kaleidoscopic right now, his magic would be shimmering about him with glee. Kakashi can’t help but remember how it felt to press his face into Gai’s feathers - like the sofa but _better_ \- and with this thought, he realises why he doesn’t need some extravagant nest at all.

“Rival!” Gai greets, springing up. “I’ve put the sofa back - you can see for yourself! I promise I won’t -”

Kakashi ignores him. “Alert your patrol, Shikaku, and tell the deer to stay out of our way.”

Like Yamato, Shikaku just sighs. Gai’s excitement vanishes in an instant, overcome by concern. He seems to notice the sparks at Kakashi’s fingers for the first time, the edge to his magic, the brewing of a storm. He can’t see Kakashi’s wings struggling to push free but he will soon; the sky will see soon and so will the wood, but all Konoha will know is a summer storm as sudden as a wildfire rage.

If Gai wants to make a spectacle of his intentions, then Kakashi will show him a spectacle.

“Let’s spar. Spread your wings.”

“But -”

“Unless you _forfeit_ -”

“I never forfeit,” Gai asserts, and Kakashi can almost see his breast feathers ruffling up at the slight. He’d look so magnificent if he opened his wings now, red with zeal as eight streaks of sunlight blaze through the house. There’s no fire like Gai’s in the world: Kakashi’s searched. He’s never felt such heat anywhere else, such gentle, incinerating magic. The Nine-Tails flames are a trickster’s glee, and the Uchiha cast devastating firestorms over the land. Gai’s fires burn and burn and burn, and they’re so beautiful that Kakashi wouldn’t mind catching flame. It would be so easy, Kakashi knows, and the thought thrills him. But Gai’s never burned him, always so careful when sunning his magic over Kakashi’s. No other fire magic has surrounded Kakashi without trying to set his ablaze.

“Then it’s a challenge,” Kakashi says, stepping off the _engawa_ and into the rain. The start of the downpour is a cool mist over the wood, a quiet pitter-pattering so unlike the pounding of his heart. His magic crackles at his fingertips like adrenaline bursting free.

Still, Gai hesitates. He never used to hesitate; he never messed around with Kakashi’s bed. He follows only to the _shoji_ , glancing between the scorch marks and the darkening sky. “You’re upset. I’m not sure we should spar if -”

“Well I’m sure,” Kakashi interrupts, spreading his wings and reaching up to the sky. “It’s been a long time since we’ve fought like this. Don’t think I can handle it?”

Gai sets his jaw and steps into the rain. A breath of fire evaporates everything about him: the mist, the chill, the beckoning wind. Eight colossal wings lift him slowly, each pair beating in tandem. Kakashi is lighter, swifter, at least till they take to the sky. Even with eight wings, it seems such an effort for Gai to ascend; rain lashes in his face and his red-green tail-feathers trail in the muddying earth. Eye-like spirals dot the darkest of his tail-feathers, elegant red swirls that Kakashi doesn't remember from the last time they fought. Gai's colours are always changing, always warming and flickering like fire in the air, but his plumage has never been so bold. Kakashi can't help but stare as Gai takes flight - slowly, but rising as the sun does, perfectly, chasing the moon across the sky.

 _Chase me_ , Kakashi thinks, thinks some primal part of him. Ice-cold rain swirls beneath every beat of his wings. His magic-storm is as dark as this wood that Gai protects. He climbs higher, hearing the thunder, feeling its strikes. He can’t make a nest for Gai; it’d be the worst thing they’ve ever seen. But he can make a storm; create the lightning and rain. It won’t be soft and it won’t be warm, but it will be safe and will be theirs, and maybe they can have some fun here too.

“First to yield loses,” Kakashi calls.

Gai throws Kakashi’s gales back at him, only now they’re fervent and warm. “First to yield,” he agrees, and if he still feels hesitation, then it’s lost beneath his laughter. “Which won’t be me!”

Kakashi dives, pulling down the lightning. Gai falls after him, his iridescent magic casting shadows in all directions. They glide together, spiralling down over the forest, whipping the wind beneath their wings. At sharp turns they clash, talons striking talons and rain splattering between them. It’s less of a fight and more of a game; more of something else, twisting and banking and climbing up, high up into the dark of the day.

Thunder crashes around them. Gai circles low over the forest and Kakashi mirrors him, poppy-red eye swirling. The village is a cluster of lights far below them, like the eyes of the Nara deer blinking through the trees. Kakashi throws a bolt of lightning and Gai swerves away, the white-hot magic sizzling past his wings.

“You’ll have to aim better than that!”

The thunder replies instead of Kakashi and Gai laughs, shining brighter, the air around him almost too hot to near. Kakashi isn’t cowered. He dives again, the rain coating his feathers evaporating away as he swoops past; Gai lifts, wings scrambling, and cloud vapour bursts between them as hot magic slams against cold.

They chase each other through the gathering storm. Kakashi banks in and out of the clouds, disappearing and reappearing without a sound. Gai can’t camouflage himself in this weather or any weather, but his magic burns through everything, surrounding him in an inextinguishable light. He can follow Kakashi anywhere and he does, monstrous and yet graceful, a blur of yellow-pink, green-blue, and too many colours in-between.

Kakashi can only laugh at the thrill of it. How they must look to the village, specks of black and gold somersaulting in the wind. He catches Gai’s talons again and earns himself a swat of flame; not hot enough to hurt but enough to startle him, and Gai laughs as he knocks Kakashi through the sky. Close-combat isn’t the same like this, but they’re hundreds of years old and nothing if not adaptable. Kakashi flies as close as he dares - so close that they collide, beaks snapping together, talons grabbing talons. A bolt of lightning breaks them apart. Gai screeches, maybe in pain, and Kakashi retreats higher and higher, static zapping around him.

Gai gives chase - of course he does. He’s been chasing a chance with the beds and now he’s chasing Kakashi for real.

 _Catch me_ , Kakashi thinks, and the thought both excites and frightens him. He’s a thunderbird; he has no place to rest. Gai re-settles with every cycle, finds himself a home and stays there, protecting it, but Kakashi’s never done in all his years. He doesn’t know if he can settle, if that’s even something he would want. Gai’s enough to bring him home from time-to-time - and that, _for_ Gai, will just have to be enough.

Kakashi surges up and rolls onto his back, locking talons with Gai just before plummeting back down. He drags Gai with him, wings held back and inert, but Gai struggles, his too-many wings scrambling through the rain. Kakashi lets go and spins back around, a bellow of thunder daring Gai to try it again.

The second time, Gai swoops close and snatches Kakashi from the air. They’re so high up that the ground seems days away, but as they dive together, cartwheeling, laughing at the adrenaline and the stupidity and fear, the Nara forest rises up at terrifying speed. Kakashi feels the wind struggling to catch them and knows it won’t; the ground might, the ground _will_ unless Gai releases them. He’s caught Kakashi now, just like he wanted, and as they spin and burn and dodge the lightning together, the reality that he might prefer to crash them into the ground than let go looms up dark and wooden and so _close_ that the canopy breaks around them -

Gai throws Kakashi back up into the sky. Fire and rain and the ever-watching trees of the Nara forest blur around him, and his ruby red eye catches it all. The wind laughs as it sweeps Kakashi back up, and the trees shake as Gai tumbles through them and _up_ \- up again, leaves and other indignant plant-life falling from his tail.

Kakashi can’t help but laugh, elated, _free_. Trust Gai to be dramatic. The Nara are going to be _furious_ that they almost squashed their wood. He doesn’t care. Kushina was right: this is beyond flirting, this is beyond anything he ever expected from Gai at all.

Gai circles low over the forest, nearing the clearing where his house resides. When he sees Kakashi gliding down, he shakes his golden head, peacock-blue plume shining. “Yield! Kakashi, I yield.”

Kakashi falls back, lightning screeching. “ _Do you want me or not?_ ” he demands over the crash of the rain.

Gai lands heavy near his house, shaking fire from his body. He transforms back into his jumpsuit-wearing self in a burst of light, which is the only thing that prevents Kakashi from landing on top of him and pinning him to the ground. Instead, Kakashi swerves away at the last second and almost crashes into the house; Gai doesn’t even laugh, which is a bad sign.

“What’s this -” Gai begins, only to stop and catch his breath. He’s either so flushed that he’s pink or his magic is sweltering around him, and he pushes back his fringe with a sigh. “Are you hurt anywhere? Did you hit the trees?”

Human-like now, Kakashi plonks himself down onto the _engawa_. He crosses his arms and his legs, attempting disinterest but probably failing to bluff it. “I’m fine. Why’d you chicken out?”

Gai crosses his arms too, but he only ever looks ridiculous. “If you think I would let you hit the ground -”

“ _No_ , just now. Why’d you yield?”

“I - was worried I’d hurt you,” Gai replies, which is fair but not, Kakashi thinks, the entire truth. Gai doesn’t look convinced either, and he’s the one skirting around the answer. He sighs, slumping into it. “I don’t understand what this is all about, Kakashi.”

Kakashi’s name means business. His eyebrows shoot up into his electrified hair. “Don’t you? Seriously? C’mon, Gai, it’s about those _damn_ beds - nests, whatever they are. I’m not interested in -”

“If that’s what you want -”

“- sharing my - _don’t_ , Gai,” Kakashi pleads, seconds from throwing up his hands. His expression twists, half-hidden by his mask but sorry enough, all the same, for Gai to trudge over in the mud. They’re both perfectly dry despite the rain, Kakashi commanding it and Gai burning it away, but somehow Gai still achieves the pitiful puppy look. Kakashi shakes his head, shakes a finger, and wants to grab Gai by his shoulders and shake him too: “Don’t make me spell it out. You caught me. You win -”

“You’re not -”

“I don’t _need_ another stupid bed. You’re the comfiest thing in the entire village anyway.”

A smile tugs on Gai’s face. He lifts a hand slowly but doesn’t do anything with it; he doesn’t even seem to notice that it’s moved, waiting a hair’s breadth from Kakashi’s shoulder. “I am?”

“The sofa’s fine for inside the house, I guess,” Kakashi adds, shrugging up into the touch. Gai’s magic tingles along his shoulder and down his back, and Kakashi won’t ever admit that his toes curl. “Or I guess I could - I could sleep in, you know, from time to time. If that was all right.”

Judging by Gai’s white-teethed smile and sparkling flame of magic around him, it’s more than all right. He drops down onto the _engawa_ and lays a hand over Kakashi’s; their thighs bump, their shoulders knock, and as Gai’s magic encompasses them both, Kakashi can see the world through its shimmering, golden hue.

Then Gai sniffs and Kakashi remembers that this all-but-godly firebird is his overly-flamboyant best friend.

“Don’t cry, I swear -”

“I won’t,” Gai insists, voice wobbling. He scrubs at his face with a sleeve. It’s unattractive but at least it’s honest, and Kakashi finds himself patting Gai’s hand, _there, there_. “It’s just - I want you to feel like you have a permanent place to come back to. You don’t have to stay; I don’t want to _trap_ you -”

“Oh thank _god_ for that,” Kakashi drawls, and he yanks down his mask and pulls Gai into a kiss.

Sunlight in through the open _shoji_ wakes Kakashi the next morning, but there’s a strange shape to it, a rounded outline, as though something is blocking the way. He cracks open one eye, partly suspecting Gai’s bowl-cut head but mostly suspecting - yep, there’s a deer leaning in through the _shoji_ , its antlers clacking against the door frame. It peers down at him with a vacant expression, nose twitching. Kakashi drags his arm out from under the pillow and pets its snout, baffled by its composure. Gai definitely set fire to some of the forest last night, and Kakashi’s thunderbolts probably didn’t help. The deer doesn’t seem to mind though, unless it’s here to eat him.

“Please don’t,” Kakashi begs of it.

“Don’t wha?” Gai asks, yawning as wide as a cat. One of his arms is pinned under Kakashi’s shoulder, but the other scrubs over his face. The deer starts and snorts, kicking the door, and from where Kakashi’s all but lying across him, he _hears_ Gai’s heart leap out of his chest. “WH - oh. Good morning. How’d you get in?”

Gai never shuts the storm-shutters when Kakashi stays the night, but leaving the _shoji_ open is a first. Luckily it didn’t rain overnight but Kakashi _was_ a little busy.

“Ah,” Gai says, probably realising this. He blushes to the tips of his ears and coughs once. The deer probably can’t see that shade of red anyway, so it’s not like it matters. Kakashi saw him blushing _all over_ last night. “Could you excuse us until we’re more presentable, Mr. Deer? We don’t have any food for you.”

“You don’t have to _ask_ it,” Kakashi sighs, sliding the _shoji_ shut once the deer backs out. One day, the Nara deer will be smart enough to open doors for themselves, and that’s the day Gai will be moving house. “It was probably looking for Yamato.”

“I’d hate to think we harmed any wildlife last night,” Gai says, rolling onto his side. He slings an arm over the duvet, over Kakashi’s waist, but under the covers he knocks their knees together. His face creases in thought until Kakashi kisses his jaw, and then he smiles all brilliant and white.

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Kakashi says, squinting at Gai’s pink-green shine. “Tone it down.”

Gai snuffs out his magic, but his smile remains. “Sorry, sorry. What time is it? Did you sleep all right?”

Kakashi yawns, caring more about Gai’s comfy bed and maybe _appreciating_ it some more than whatever time is it. “ _You’re_ the sun-bird,” he says, trailing his fingers up Gai’s spine. He can almost feel Gai’s feathers ruffling and he smiles. “You don’t have to be anywhere in a rush, do you?”

“I never rush,” Gai says, which is both true and doesn’t answer the question. His breath catches as Kakashi’s hand spreads over his back; there might be claw-marks there already, red lines of pleasure and wonky, static feathers. Kakashi’s much less careful about these things.

“Good,” Kakashi says, leaning in for a kiss - and then another, and then tipping back his head as Gai’s confidence grows. “Mm, d’you think the sofa’ll survive us?”

Gai laughs and rolls them almost out of bed. “I should hope it will! But if it does not, I shall find you a new one - before the end of the day!”

The end of the day might be _before_ Kakashi’s finished having his way, but if anybody could follow through with an ambition like that, it’s someone who’s fallen in love with a thunderbird, lightning-hazard and all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! All comments are appreciated :)


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